


One Day at a Time

by TheLostWinchester (PlumOfTheWillow)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Castiel in the Bunker, Crowley Being an Asshole, Crowley is a Little Shit, Domestic Violence, Hugs, Impala, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Multi, On the Run, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Teen Angst, Teenagers, Winchester Sister
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlumOfTheWillow/pseuds/TheLostWinchester
Summary: You are the youngest Winchester. A girl who throws caution to the wind in order to keep up with her older brothers, Sam and Dean. You battle alongside them as they pick fights with demons and monsters across the US, but can you keep up forever? Or will something no one could've anticipated ruin your familial bonds forever? DUN DUN DUNNNN I suck at summaries just give it a chance. These chapters are based off of suggestions but will follow the story line that I create.





	1. I'm Tired of This!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First SPN fic. WoOoO. No spoilers in this chapter but be wary of others IDK if they will. (I'll put in the notes if they do though so don't worry) Hope you like it! Leave any comments as to what you would like to see in other chapters if you want!  
> Love, Moi
> 
> If you like this story and want to help a sister out with her expenses, please consider visiting **_Ko-fi.com/willowplum_** and donating! If you cannot donate at this time no worries! I would like to thank you for even enjoying my works. SO much love to you all!

**_Dad should've never brought you back._ **

These words reverberated through the head of (Y/n) Winchester as you sulked alone through the dark streets of the fall night. Summer had given way to fall only a few weeks ago but the temperature had already dropped dramatically. The littlest Winchester loved everything about fall from the temperature drop to the themed coffee seeking the approval of social medias. However, you currently did not feel the bubble of happiness you usually felt out in the bitter weather. Instead, you felt the bitterness inside of your heart accompanied with a certain longing to go home.

_Home._

You almost laughed aloud at the notion. You had no home. At least, not anymore. Your mind replayed the events that had occurred merely hours before, trying to comprehend how everything had gone so wrong so quickly.

.

The hunt had been a relatively successful endeavor for you and your two older brothers. A fairly easy task of a salt-and-burn which resulted in only one casualty, the death of Corey Robinson, the husband of the vengeful spirit. In the end, you held the thought that the man deserved what became of him, since he was the one who caused the death of his wife in the first place. This line of thinking did not ease the fact that the man was dead, and it was your fault. 

Your indifference to the man's well-being caused you to leave the man's side whilst the spirit of his bride was near. You only wanted to go in search of your brothers, an action that they forbade you to do, to make sure they were safe and to get away from the murderer they had forced you to protect. You had expressed your unwillingness to your brothers beforehand but they had ignored your opinions.

.

"Look, all I'm saying is we shouldn't waste so much energy on trying to save this guy!" you said, expressing your doubts while Dean loaded his shotgun with salt rounds from inside the Impala and Sam hoisted a shovel onto his shoulder.

"(N/n)," you rolled your eyes at Sam's use of your nickname, "we don't pick and choose who we want to save. This guy is in trouble and we have the opportunity to save him, so we will. That's our job." Sam said.

"No our job is to save _people_. And that guy is a _monster_ for what he did to his wife!" you said emphatically, "We have no responsibility for his life."

Sam gave you a look before placing the shovel within the Impala's trunk. You turned to Dean when you heard him chuckle to himself.

"What?" you questioned.

"Nah nothing" he said nonchalantly, "you just rhymed is all."

"Dude cmon" Sam said, annoyed.

"What?!" Dean answered defensively, looking at Sam, who gestured in your direction asking for aid regarding your previous comments. Dean got the gist and sighed, setting his gun down and standing up, turning towards you. 

"(N/n)," you sighed at the use of your nickname again but Dean continued on, not caring "We don't get to decide who lives and who dies. When we get a chance to save a life, we do it. End of story."

"But Dean-" you started, annoyed with the entire situation.

"End of story, (Y/n)" he said stiffly, daring you with his eyes to say something else, a trait he had learned from Dad himself. When you said nothing, he grabbed the shotgun he had loaded up and handed it to you.

"You go and protect Robinson until Sam and I salt-and-burn the grave. We'll drop you off and pick you up when we're done" he said.

You wanted to explode, but knew that it was best to just follow your brothers' wishes. 

"Fine" you said stiffly before swiftly snatching the weapon from Dean and sitting in the backseat of the Impala, your attitude strengthening tenfold.

Sam sighed before Dean shrugged and loaded his own shovel into the trunk. Sam entered the passenger seat and looked back at you but you didn't make eye contact. Dean got in the driver's seat and turned on the radio, not bothering to look back at your angst-filled form. The rest of the drive to Robinson's house was silent as you watched the terrain pass your window.

.

You had been at Robinson's place for over an hour already and were officially ready to gouge the man's eyes out. The narcissist only spoke about his past social accomplishments and college days, not knowing that you knew of his disgusting crime. Every word he uttered made you more infuriated with his presence. He accepted the ideas of ghosts and demons among other supernatural creatures, but he refused to believe that staying within a circle of salt could protect someone from any of them. 

"Mr. Robinson, get back in the circle" you said for the umpteenth time to the balding, portly man wearing a stained tank top and olive shorts.

"I am not gettin' back in the damned circle!" he shouted at you, "That bitch is tryna kill me and all you're doing is sittin' there and waiting fir it to happen!"

You stood from the shitty piece of furniture you had been residing on and strode until you were in front of the greasy man. 

"Now you listen here you son of a bitch" you said venomously, "I would like nothing more than for that 'bitch' to come in here and decapitate you while I eat a bag of popcorn and sing showtunes"  
He paled, "but that's not gonna happen. Wanna know why? Because I promised my dumbass brothers that I'd protect your sorry ass from death. So if you would so _kindly_ get in the GODDAMN circle, I would appreciate it."

You smiled bitterly at Robinson as he stepped back into the salt circle, looking to the ground like a child who was just scorned by a teacher.

"Thank you" you said in a cheery tone.

He didn't respond and you had the feeling he wouldn't say anything for quite a bit.

A few moments of blissful silence later, you heard the Impala's unmistakable engine rev into the driveway and silently thanked whatever God existed, if any. You practically threw open the door before Sam could even knock.

"Get me out of here" you said quickly, looking between your two brothers as they stepped inside.

"Yeah yeah (N/n), just a second and we're out" Dean replied as the three siblings stepped into the room in which Robinson stood in the salt circle.

"We've handled it." Sam said curtly, "but make no mistake, we know what really happened to your wife."

Robinson paled once again, clenching his fists and jaw.

"So let's just say," Dean continued smugly, "some 'anonymous' tips were given to some boys in blue."

You couldn't help but smirk at the look on Robinson's face, but it didn't last long as the lights of the house flickered and a familiar chill filled the air.

"Did you burn the body?" you asked your brothers, all tense with weapons in hand.

"Of course we did!" was Dean's reply.

"Then how the hell is she still here?" you inquired at a whisper.

"She's still here?!" came Robinson's shrill exclamation.

"SHHHH!" the three siblings said at once. 

"Do you have anything else belonging to your wife?" Sam asked Robinson, "Hair, fingernails, jewelry, anything?!"

Robinson was frantic, hyperventilating like a mess and searching the room with frantic eyes until he landed on a small velvet box on the mantelpiece.

"Her ring!" he pointed to it, "Her ring! I was gonna pawn it when I had the chance"

You shot him a disgusted look and tossed the box to Sam, who set outside to burn it. As you went to follow him, Dean grabbed your arm.

"What?" you said, trying to get out of his grip, shotgun in hand.

"You stay here" he pulled you a step closer to him, looking you directly in the eye "Do. Not. Leave."

With that, Dean grabbed his gun and followed Sam outside, leaving you with the squirming murderer to babysit once again. You sat down in your seat with a huff, but this time, you had the shotgun in your hands and your eyes set on the space in front of you. 

Radio silence followed for a few moments before you heard a grunt from outside and a muffled "Sammy!". You bolted up and ran outside, ignoring the protests from Robinson begging for your protection. When you got outside, you saw Sam and Dean on the ground near a small fire, the velvet box a few feet away from them and their guns haphazardly tossed away as well. A woman wearing a white nightgown approached Sam, arm outstretched. You raised your gun and fired once at the woman, hitting her in the chest. She let out a scream and disappeared. Knowing she would return soon you ran towards your brothers to make sure they were alright.

"You guys good?" you asked, scanning them for any obvious injuries, as you always do.

"I told you to stay inside" Dean practically growled.

"You're welcome, Dean" you said, annoyed.

You helped them up and turned to reenter the house when you heard a chilling scream come from within it. 

"BURN THE RING" Dean shouted to Sam as he ran inside, you in his wake.

When you entered, the brutal scene made you gasp. Robinson was very dead, indeed. It was obvious that he left the salt circle in an attempt to find shelter upstairs, but his wife got to him beforehand. Mrs. Robinson stood over her husband's body, bloody hands by her sides.

"THAT'S WHAT YOU DESERVE YOU DISGUSTING SON OF A-" before the blushing bride could finish, she erupted in a cloud of fire, a loud scream emanating from her being. 

You and Dean lowered your guns and sighed. You looked at Robinson's body sprawled out on the lower part of the staircase, his heart ripped out of his chest.

_Ironic, isn't it? He broke her heart, she ripped out his._

You pushed the cold thought aside as you heard Sam's quiet "Dammit" from behind you as he reentered the house and saw the scene. You looked over at him and saw a look of disappointment spread upon his features as he made eye contact with you. You quickly looked away and realized Dean had yet to utter a word. You glances at him and saw his jaw and hands clenched, a look of pure fury in his eyes.

_Shit._

"Dean I-" he held up his hand, stopping you mid-apology.

"Go to the car" he said sternly.

"Dean-" you tried again, not wanting him to bathe in his rage.

"GO TO THE CAR" he screamed, not looking at you.

You froze in place, terrified of your brother's reaction. You didn't move until you felt a large hand on your shoulder guide you outside. You looked at Sam and saw that his features were stern, but not furious like Dean's. You decided to try with him.

"Sam I'm sorry I just heard you fall and Dean scream and Robinson was a prick anyways and I'm so sorry I just-" you bumbled out all at once until he stopped you.

"(Y/n), stop" he said bluntly.

And you did. You said nothing as he guided you towards the backseat of the Impala, shutting the door a little too hard after you sat, making you flinch. You said nothing as you saw the house burst into flames, which would be listed in the papers in an article titled 'Suicide of Murderous Husband Shocks Local Citizens". You said nothing as your brothers got silently into the car and Dean turned on his music. You said nothing the whole ride back to the Bunker.

You said nothing when Dean shoved you against the wall when you entered, clutching onto your shirt tightly.

"(Y/n) Winchester" he said menacingly, making your stomach turn, "Why the hell are you so damn naive?!"

"Dean" you practically whimpered. You hated it when he acted so much like Dad. You looked to Sam for help, but he just watched, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Dean I needed to help you two-" you tried to continue.

"No" he interrupted, "you didn't _need_ to, you _wanted_ to. You _wanted_ to help us after I TOLD YOU TO STAY INSIDE." he screamed in your face.

You could feel the heat of his breath on your face and moved your head away, feeling the terror Dean Winchester wanted you to feel in that moment. You were on your tiptoes against the wall, it was moments like these when you realized Dean was so much bigger than you, his eyes bore down into yours and you looked anywhere but at him.

"Look at me!" he screamed as he shook you. You did and you wish you hadn't. The anger in his eyes were as if you ripped the guy apart yourself. 

"You wanted him dead from the start, (Y/n)" he said, moving closer to your face and dropping his voice to a whisper, "Am I right?"

You didn't answer, looking at Sam again. He seemed a bit worried now, he moved closer as if about to stop the confrontation, but not before Dean repeated himself in a voice that would make any other grown man cry.

"Am. I. Right?"

"Y-yes" you stuttered. It wasn't true, you didn't want the guy to actually die, but hell would freeze over before you decided to go against Dean Winchester while he was in this mood.

"Okay, Dean" Sam said calmly, clearly seeing enough, "She gets it."

"No" Dean said, still in the same position, looking at you harshly, "I don't think she does."

He let go of your shirt and took a step back, leaving you on jellied knees that could barely support your weight. You looked at Dean and saw his eyes still blazing with fury.

_Why is he so upset? I know I messed up but damn._

Now that he was farther away from you, you could get your thoughts in order and you tried to formulate something coherent to say to your seething brother. Before you could, he dropped the bomb on you.

"Dad should've never brought you back."

The words tore your heart out in a manner more painful than anything Robinson could've experienced. Dean stormed off and left you and Sam in his wake. Tears brimmed in your eyes whilst Sam's were filled with shock and a lesser note of terror. 

"(Y/n)" Sam started, but before he could even continue, you ran to your room, slamming the door shut and locking it behind you. Tears spilled down your cheeks but you did not sob, you just stared at the belongings scattered throughout your area. Your bed was not made and clothes, books, and papers were scattered across your desk. You gave no attention to anything in your room and collapsed on the bed, face buried in a pillow. You did not sob, you made no noise, you just let the tears fall from your eyes, only the sniffing giving away that you were immensely heartbroken. 

_"Dad should've never brought you back."_

It was a reference to how you were even alive in the first place. When Sam was 6 months old, Mary had been pregnant with another child, you. When Azazel killed your mother, he killed you too unknowingly. Your father had known about the pregnancy and was emotionally ruined by the loss of his wife and unborn girl. He spent months combing through books of lore to find anything on Azazel. In his research, he found a spell that could be used to bring back an unborn creature. However, the catch was that the DNA of the mother must be used within the ritual and that it could only be performed on the tenth day beginning a new millennium. That next possible day being in January of 2000, about 16 years after the death of your mother. John had years to gather all the ingredients and told Bobby of his plan. Bobby, of course, though that the man was an idiot and a psychopath. After much convincing, John was able to sway Bobby into helping him bring back his child since he couldn't bring back Mary. The duo were able to successfully complete the ritual and left that night with a newborn girl which John named (Y/n), the name Mary had wanted so badly for a girl and John had shot down.

_And now Dean is saying I shouldn't be alive. Well screw him._

The thought shocked you and frustrated you further. In that instant, you decided on what to do next. You were leaving. You obviously weren't welcome at the Bunker and you still wanted to hunt so the next best thing was to go solo. You got up from your bed, a new wave of determination filling you and you grabbed a duffel bag and filled it with the bare necessities. You set the bag atop your bed and decided to wait until your brothers fell asleep to leave. You could hear some muffled shouting through the walls and determined that it was Sam trying to convince Dean to apologize to you. In honesty, you didn't want an apology, you wanted to take action and stand up for yourself. You sat next to your duffel and began to plan on your route to freedom.

.

3:00 AM rolled around and you hadn't heard any noise from within the Bunker for over an hour. You threw the duffel over your shoulder and silently crept out of your room and outside. The bitter wind made you shiver as you began walking away from the Bunker, pushing away the piece of your mind begging you to turn around.

Turn around and head back _home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? Hope so?  
> Leave any comments as to what you would like to see in other chapters if you want!  
> Love, Moi


	2. Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Running away from all the shit you just can't handle anymore. You find some friendly new faces and a mean old one.
> 
> Contains no spoilers for the TV series but does contain cursing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo I'm glad some of you liked the first chapter! I'll be attempting to make these chapters weekly but at the least, they will be every two weeks. Leave any requests in the comments and bookmark this series if you want to be notified when I post!  
> Okay enough of this, I hope you enjoy. :D
> 
> If you like this story and want to help a sister out with her expenses, please consider visiting **_Ko-fi.com/willowplum_** and donating! If you cannot donate at this time no worries! I would like to thank you for even enjoying my works. SO much love to you all!

You strolled alone through the dark and windy streets, your duffel bag pressing additional weight on your shoulders, already burdened with guilt. The sun peeked over the horizon, signaling dawn and the beginning of a new day of work for most people; however, you knew this meant that a certain long-haired hunter would begin preparing for his morning jog. You gave yourself about two hours before your brothers found out you were missing.

You had your brother's morning schedules completely memorized. Sam would wake up and change into his workout clothes before jogging for an hour along his usual route, which you had skillfully avoided in order to minimize your chances of detection. After his disgustingly healthy jog, Sam would return to the Bunker and shower before making coffee for the three of you. The thought made you smile slightly since you knew how Sam went out of his way to make sure your cup of coffee was exactly how you liked it, little bit of milk and lots of sugar. So much in fact, that Sam had tried to convince you to switch to tea in the morning. When you heartily refused, Sam shook his head but still continued to prepare the coffee how you wanted. Dean, on the other hand, would drink pure black coffee, which you believed tasted like gasoline. Sam,like always, would be the neutral between the both of you, no milk and regular sugar. 

After Sam made the coffee, you would have usually woken up and made your way into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes groggily. Sam would smile at you fondly before setting the overly sweet cup of caffeine in front of you. Dean would enter after you, rubbing his eyes in the same manner as you did and letting out an overly dramatic yawn. He would ruffle your hair, which you didn't bother to brush, and sit down across from you, drinking his gasoline greedily. When you didn't show up at your usual time, you could imagine the tension between your siblings, especially after Dean's comment last night. You could imagine Dean asking "Where's (Y/n)?" and Sam's annoyed "Really, dude?" response. You and Sam knew Dean loved to play ignorant when he messed up. He never had the balls to accept responsibility for his mistakes until he was forced to and he sure as hell would not start now. You suspected there would be another argument between your brothers on "who-should-apologize-to-who" and a begrudging Sam would stalk his way to your room and attempt to wake you to mend the situation. The image of his worried face when he saw your room empty and suspected the worse filled your mind and almost persuaded you to turn back before you could cause that pain. 

_Dad should've never brought you back._

The harsh words echoed through your brain again and you kept striding forward, ignoring the little voice in your head saying you were making a mistake. 

You should've turned back.

.

Six hours had passed since you left the Bunker and your legs ached slightly from the continuous walking, the lack of your routine sugary caffeine was taking its toll on your energy level as you felt your steps become more sluggish. You had made a considerable amount of progress through your route (21 miles), ignoring the cars that passed you and stared quizzically at your hunching form. Unfortunately, six hours was less than half the time needed to reach your final destination, Kansas City. Your plan was to book a ticket at Kansas International Airport to somewhere else in the country, where your brothers couldn't immediately reach you. You were debating between Orlando, Florida or Seattle, Washington, both on polar opposite sides of the nation. 

The real issue was reaching the airport before your brothers found you. The 14 hour walking trek gave Sam and Dean a lot of time to pinpoint your location like the experienced hunters they were. However, you were a hunter as well and knew all the tricks your brothers would try to use to find you. You turned off your phone's GPS so they couldn't track your location and made sure to avoid any public spaces, where people may remember your foreign appearance and report a runaway sighting to any police.

Just as you were considering taking a break and stopping for breakfast, your phone buzzed. The unexpected noise made you tense and you took the device out of your pocket, staring at the screen with apprehension.

_Dean._

You denied the call but continued to look at the screen, as if Dean himself would jump out and beat your ass right then and there. When no such thing happened, you moved to put the phone back in your pocket but another set of buzzes caused you to look at the screen again.

_Dean._

You denied it again, and his name almost immediately popped up on your phone afterwards. You denied that call as well, more annoyed than nervous now. Expecting another call from your eldest brother to grace your screen again, you stared at your phone in silence for a moment. When it didn't buzz, you took it as a sign of victory and placed your phone back in your pocket. You took about 3.5 steps before your phone started buzzing once more. Letting out an annoyed heave, you pulled the phone out of your pocket and had your finger on the 'Deny' button before you saw the name and paused.

_Sam._

You felt a slight pang in your chest as you read the name and couldn't bring yourself to deny his call, since he had done nothing wrong to you. Reluctantly, you accepted the call.

"(Y/n)?" came Sam's worried voice when he didn't hear another ring.

"Hey" was all you could muster, the weight of your decision really hitting you now.

"Oh thank God. (Y/n), are you okay?" You could hear Dean's voice in the background say something like "Where the hell is she?!" before you responded.

"Yeah, Sam. I'm good" you hesitated, "I'm just out...for a morning jog, like you usually do". The lie was an attempt to buy you more time to reach the airport, but you could sense that Sam saw right through it. He always tried to get you and Dean to join him in the mornings, but you were always adamant on staying in bed for as long as possible. Even once using the excuse that you were 'allergic to voluntary exercise'. 

"(Y/n), your duffel is missing." You winced at being caught in the lie, "Where are you?".

Realizing that stalling would do you no good, you decided to just come out and say the truth, hoping that Sam, of all people, would understand your feelings. 

"I need a break, Sam. I can't be around you two right now, okay?" Sensing that your words hurt him, you decided to clarify, "Dean. I can't be around Dean" you said quickly, hoping he understood what you were referencing.

"Oh" came Sam's quiet response, his tone of voice made you want to stop and apologize right then and there but you just stood silently, waiting for him to say something else.

"(N/n), look, what Dean said was a whole new level of wrong okay? I'm not defending him." You could hear Dean scoff in the background but Sam continued "But you need to come back so we can fix this. Trust me, I know running away doesn't help."

His words hit you hard, remembering how he left you for Stanford all those years ago. Doubt seeped into your mind and you pondered the weight of your decision before concluding that your choice was the right one. What Dean said was unforgivable, at least for now. You needed time away from him and going on simple hunts alone seemed like a good way to clear your mind. Sam didn't deserve this treatment, but you felt like he would understand once everything settled down a bit.

"Sam, I'm sorry. But I'm not coming back".

"(Y/n), please" came his response through the speaker, breaking your heart. Just then, you heard a struggle and a new voice emanate from the phone.

"(Y/n) Winchester" came Dean's angry voice, filling your heart with fear and contempt. "You turn your ass around and come back here right now or I swear to God I-"

"You'll what, Dean?!" you screamed back, a whole new level of anger embracing you, "You'll kill me like Azazel did? Put me back where I belong? Fuck you, Dean. Stay away from me."

Before he could respond, you hung up the phone, hand shaking and tears falling from your eyes from frustration. 

_When did I start crying?_

You quickly wiped the unwanted tears away from your face and muted your phone, not caring what your brothers had to say at the moment. Little did you know, Dean had chucked Sam's phone across the room and broke it against the wall, yelling "SON OF A BITCH" as he did so. 

As you settled down, you felt your stomach rumble, signaling that it was time for breakfast. Ignoring your needs, you continued on, not wanting for Sam and Dean to get anywhere near you and have any chance of finding you. 

After some time, you saw a little town at a fork of the long barren road you were following to the airport. Your stomach seemed to growl louder, as if it itself had seen the town and knew it was a sign of food. You stared at the town a moment, weighing how much time you could spare before your brothers got too close for your liking. You had at least a 3 hour margin to work with before Sam and Dean could even guess where you were heading and currently, you were an hour away from the Bunker if they took the Impala.

 _30 minutes away if Dean is driving._

Convincing yourself, you decided to take a half hour snack break at one of the local diners. Adjusting your duffel on your shoulder, you made your way into the town. You made sure to act casual as you strode down the sidewalk, avoiding eye contact yet smiling slightly and nodding at those you could not avoid. Eventually, you found your way to a little breakfast diner that opened an hour ago. Dreading the social interaction, you hesitated at the doorway. 

Booths resided against the wall next to windows, a long bar with stools separated the seating area from the cash register and kitchen. A friendly looking old woman stood behind the bar, talking to a bearded man on a stool who looked like a stereotypical biker. The sight almost made you laugh aloud, as the little old woman was making the biker laugh while he ate a blueberry pancake. 

Finally noticing your entrance, the woman pardoned herself from the biker and walked around the bar, hobbling closer to you with a contagious smile on her face.

"Well good morning!" she said cheerfully, "How many seats do you need?"

"Thr- um... just me." You responded, forgetting you weren't with your brothers this time.

"Alright, sweetheart. Would you like a booth or a stool?" she said as she turned around to grab a single menu. When she turned back around to address you, you saw her name tag. Gertrude.

_Ew._

You must have made a face because she looked at her name tag and laughed, the wrinkles on her face becoming more pronounced as she smiled.

"It was a nicer name in my time." You felt like a piece of shit, ears burning in embarrassment, she must've seen that because her eyes softened and she added, "Oh no sweetheart, don't worry. I've heard worse things in my lifetime. You can call me Gerty if you'd like." Her smile was genuine and you couldn't help but return it.

"So, a booth then?" It took you a moment to realize what she meant. When you did, you nodded and she escorted you to a booth directly behind the biker, you were thankful for this, as you wouldn't have to engage in any awkward eye contact. You slid on the cheap leather and sat close to the window, as you usually did when you were with your brothers. 

"I'll give you a moment to look over the options" she said, placing a menu in front of you, "Call me if you need anything."

You gave her a polite smile and a quiet word of thanks before engrossing yourself in the printed words. Not wanting to fill yourself up too much, you decided on a strawberry short stack and coffee. After ordering, you decided to pull out your phone.

_14 Missed Calls. 12 New Messages._

You opened the messages and were not surprised to see that 10 of the 12 were from Sam, a mix of texts such as "Where are you?" and "(Y/n), let's talk, please". Dean only sent you two, but his had a more powerful effect on you than anything Sam could've sent. His messages were "(Y/n) come back here right now or you'll regret it" and "Have it your way then". You know that this spelled anything but happy times when you finally did return, but pushed away the thought of Dean's furious face when Gerty made her way towards you with your order.

"Here you go, sugar" she said as she placed jugs of syrup and milk on your table. You fake smiled at her, worry about your brothers filling your mind. She noticed your expression and tilted her head curiously at you.

"What's wrong, dear?" She asked you after a moment, "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"Oh, no n-nothing" you stuttered, cursing yourself for letting your emotions flow through so blatantly, "Just some family issues happening right now. I'll get over it." You smiled falsely at her again. She wasn't eating any of your bullshit. Surprisingly, she walked away behind the bar but continued talking to you, ignoring the presence of the biker, who had finished his pancakes and sat sipping coffee. 

"Not buying that stuff here, sweetie." She said as she began wiping down the counter. "This is a safe space. Right, Rodney?"

The biker looked at Gerty and let out a small 'mmhm' in agreement. Gerty made a face at him and gestured with her head towards you. The universal sign of 'help me out here'. 

_Of course his name is Rodney._

Rodney caught the message and spoke to you, but his back was still turned to face you. "I won't say anythin' to anyone. I ain't got no friends anyways." You chuckled at his comment.

"Same." You muttered to yourself. "But really, it's nothing. Just a little fight with my brothers." You were lying through your teeth, this was anything but a 'little fight'. In fact, this was probably one of the worst disagreements you have ever had with Sam and Dean. Rodney turned around on his stool now, making you tense slightly at the large stranger staring directly at you. However, his eyes were kind, a stark contrast to his gruff appearance. 

_He has a fucking scar on his cheek for Christ's sake. He looks like a pirate._

"Sweetheart, forgive my language. But that's a load of bullshit." he said, looking directly at you.

"Rod!" Gerty said indignantly. Rodney grinned sheepishly at her before continuing on, "Darling, I know a lie when I hear one. I also know a runaway when I see one." You tensed again at his words.

_Shit. One job, (Y/n). You had one job, dammit._

Rodney put his hands up in a motion of surrender, "I ain't a snitch, sweetheart. You running away is none of my business. I just don't want to find your body in a back alley in who know's where, you understand?" You nodded at his words, coming to the conclusion that it was obvious you were a runaway from the moment you stepped within the diner, you had a full duffel bag for God's sake.

"Alright, so this is what I want you to do" he said sternly, "I want you to spend the night here in town. If you don't have the cash to book a room, I'll book it for you. You think about what you're doing, and tomorrow, if you still wanna go, go. I won't stop you, but I will make sure you have everything you need to be safe. But if not, you say the word and I'll take you right back to where you belong. Sound like a plan?"

You looked quizzically at Rodney, wondering why the man cared so much about your safety. Sensing your thoughts Rodney turned back around, staring at his coffee.

"I lost a sister a while back. Same age as you." Gerty looked at him with pity, "She was trying to set me straight. I told her to fuck off, and she did. I found her behind a gas station a week later, stabbed."

You sat in silence, completely shocked that this giant was sharing this with you. Before you could say anything, he continued, "It's none of my business. But if I can help you stay safe, I'll sleep with a clear mind."

_Well fuck. How do I even say no to that?_

"Alright" you finally said. "I'll stay the night and...think about it."

He straightened at your words and Gerty gave you a full smile. Rodney cleared his throat, "Well, then. Let's get a move on".

You knew that in the morning, you could ask Rodney to just give you a ride to the airport and he would happily oblige, not wanting you to take the entire trek by foot. You felt dirty for taking advantage of his kindness, but you were comforted by the fact that doing this would ease his conscience. You both paid your bills and walked out of the diner. You were relieved to see that Rodney drove a car to the diner, having dread the awkward ride on a motorcycle, hands wrapped around the stranger's torso. 

To your surprise, the burly man drove a black Honda Civic. Of all things, that was the second-to-last thing you expected, the last being a pink unicorn. He popped open the trunk for you to set your duffel inside but you hesitated.

"If it's okay with you" you said, "I think I'd rather keep this next to me." You weren't an idiot. Your gun and angel blade were in your duffel, and you'd rather apologize to Dean than to keep these weapons out of your reach while in a car with a stranger. Rodney shrugged and closed the trunk. You took residence in the back seat of the car and placed your duffel right next to you, silently unzipping the compartment with your weapons, just in case. 

The car smelled of cigarette smoke and cologne and the seats had some food stains on them, which you tried to ignore. Rodney engaged in small talk with you on the way to the motel of that area, an "Econo Lodge". It was a regular type of motel which you usually stayed with your brothers at, you pulled up to your room directly from the parking lot. 

After booking a room under Rodney's name, which you were happy for since it would be impossible for your brothers to track, you entered the stingy room. One bed resided in the middle, a TV in front of it and a bedside cabinet which probably contained a Bible. Rodney told you that he would be back in the morning to see how you felt. You thanked the large man and he walked out, closing the door behind him. You locked it and sat on the bed with a sigh. You looked at your phone for the time, 1:15. You made the mistake of checking your phone again.

 _3 Missed Calls. 4 New Messages._ All from Sam.

You groaned and took out your charger, plugging it into the wall outlet and ignoring the messages from your worried brother. You were absolutely exhausted from your 10 hour walking journey and decided to take a shower, changing into a different pair of clothes before crashing onto the stiff mattress and letting your eyes close, drifting into a deep sleep.

.

You woke up with a start, a loud pounding at the motel door made you tense. You checked your phone for the time, 5 p.m., and quickly grabbed your gun and progressed towards the offensive noise, still groggy from sleep. You peeked through the peephole of the door and saw a woman with a cart filled with towels and other cleaning supplies. 

"Housekeeping" she said, pounding at the door once again. You wanted to shoot her for scaring the shit out of you. Instead you put the gun in your back pocket and opened the door to send her off. Before you could say a word, you were hurled to the other side of the room and pinned to the wall, unable to move. The housekeeper strolled in and shut the door nonchalantly. 

_Ohhhh fuckkkkkk_ , you thought in a panic, struggling against the invisible force that had you stuck against the wall. You cursed yourself for staying in the town, you cursed yourself for leaving the Bunker, you cursed everything for being put in this situation. The housekeeper's eyes turned black, and you weren't surprised. In fact, you rolled your eyes at the demon for the overly 'dramatic' reveal. 

"I didn't think I'd be so lucky" the demon said, approaching you slowly, "Actually finding a Winchester? In this part of town? It's unprecedented."

"Winchester? Never heard of it" you said sarcastically. The demon approached your duffel and pulled out your angel blade, looking at it curiously.

"You know...why don't we have some fun?" She came over to you slowly as you continued struggling against the invisible force immobilizing you. Swiftly, the demon stabbed you in your side, missing your organs but puncturing your abdomen. You let out a suppressed groan but did not scream, not wanting to give the demon the satisfaction of seeing you in pain. 

"Go to hell." You spat out, pain radiating through your core.

The demon raised her hand and you felt your throat close, stopping your breathing. Struggling for air, your eyes wide with fear, you felt yourself slowly slipping into unconsciousness. You tried fighting against it, but the will was too strong as the edges of your vision blurred and darkened. You strained to hold onto anything to keep yourself conscious. Your chest was on fire as you heard the demon speaking to you.

"You and your brothers have killed too many of us. Hell, you even almost got me a few times. You've killed my friends in cold-blood. Doing the same the you is the least I can do to even the score." She started closing her hand into a fist and you could feel your chest tightening. "You should've never left your brothers, sweetie" she said menacingly.

 _Is she gonna fucking crush me?!_

The pain was unbearable and you opened your mouth to scream, but no sound came out. You had tears filling your eyes from the pain when you suddenly dropped to the ground. Gulping air like a fish out of water, you grasped your wound and looked up through tear-filled eyes to see the demon gasping for breath before her eyes and mouth burned red and she fell face-first, angel blade through her neck. You stared at the body a moment, trying to grasp what the actual fuck just happened, when you heard an unmistakable British accent.

"Hello, darling". 

You passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diddddd it! Hope you liked. I will probably post again this week, latest will be next Sunday.  
> Love, Moi.


	3. Hell on Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rendezvous with the King of Hell and an unfortunate encounter you were not expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GORE! Not that bad of gore but it's descriptive, so if you don't like that type of stuff, consider this a WARNING.  
> Slight Season 8 spoiler but it's not a major plot point.  
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> If you like this story and want to help a sister out with her expenses, please consider visiting **_Ko-fi.com/willowplum_** and donating! If you cannot donate at this time no worries! I would like to thank you for even enjoying my works. SO much love to you all!

You felt the stiff surface of the motel mattress against your back as you came to. A throbbing pain in your side made you groan and grip your wound, feeling the stickiness of your blood on your shirt. Slowly, you sat up and winced, the movement having caused a new burst of pain to flow through you.

"Oh, come now" you heard an accented voice say from the corner of your room, "It's not that bad".

You looked towards the voice and saw the King of Hell himself, standing against the wall with his hands in his pockets, a bored expression spread on his features. Your eyes narrowed in suspicion at Crowley and he let out a small sigh at your silence.

"I have to say, I expected some sort of 'thanks' for saving your life," he said, "Is that to much to ask (N/n)".

"Don't call me that," you answered rigidly, your nickname was reserved to family members only. Crowley was nowhere close to even being considered a friend. 

He put his hand over his heart, mocking hurt, "Ouch" he pouted, "I only came as a request from your superiors". 

You tensed, but remained silent, glancing towards your duffel and pondering if you'd be able to make a run for it.

"They are truly desperate, coming to me" he hesitated and corrected himself "Well...Moose and the Angel are."

_Cas. Oh shit._

"But I told them that you would rather gouge your own eyes out then to accept my _helping_ hand," as if to accentuate his statement, he outstretched a hand to you. You raised your eyebrows at him.

"Well you're right" you said after a moment, "I'm not going back. So thanks for the help or whatever, but I have a ride out of here in the morning." 

You stood slowly from the bed, making your way to the duffel bag and glancing at the body of the dead demon, wondering how you were going to hide it before Rodney showed up in the morning to take you to the airport. 

"Oh I see," Crowley said, making no indication of movement as you reached your duffel and pulled out a first aid kit, "Rodney, was it?".

You froze for a second, first aid kit in hand, then moved back to the bed in silence to start treating your wound. 

"It is, isn't it?" he continued after seeing your hesitation, "Well, darling, I resent being the bearer of sad news," you paid close attention now, noticing the change in his tone.

You looked at Crowley cautiously as he continued, "but your 'friend' is dead". 

Your stomach dropped as he gestured toward the cart that the "Housekeeper" wheeled in before attacking you. Reluctantly, you stood from the bed and approached the cart, eyeing Crowley warily whilst still grasping your side. He paid no attention to you and inspected his fingers, as if judging his manicure. You reached the cart and looked within the trash bag that hung from its rim. When you saw the contents of the bag, you took a step back and put a hand over your mouth, eyes wide in shock.

 _Oh God. Oh God no please_.

Within the bag was the head of the kind man who offered you nothing but kindness. 

_Rodney._

His beard and face stained with his own blood.

"How?" you inquired to nobody, shocked and grief-filled as you sat back on the bed.

"This _parasite_ must have seen you and your little companion book this room," Crowley said, unshaken and indicating the dead demon on the floor, "A shame really. I quite liked his style, in all honesty. Apologies for this (Y/n), but the Winchester name has some negative connotations in Hell. I cannot control them all".

You sat in muted terror, guilt filling up every pore in your body as you blamed yourself for the death of Rodney. You ignored the deep and throbbing pain in your side as you sat quietly. 

"Anyways," Crowley said a little too cheerfully, "Back to the task at hand. Will you come with me back to your 'Bunker' to get your pesky siblings off my arse?"

You looked at him in astonishment, curious as to why he didn't just grab you and zap you back to the Bunker while you were wounded. The King of Hell wasn't the type to ask for permission.

"What do you want?" you asked, understanding his reasoning. He wouldn't have waited this long unless he wanted to make a deal in his favor.

"There we go again," he said with a sigh and a wave of his arms, "Why do you Winchesters always believe I want something from you? Can I not just wish for your safety? No matter the terms?" 

You raised your eyebrows at him, remaining silent.

He let out a toothy smile and light chuckle, shaking his head gently. "Alright" he said, "Here's our deal. I zap back to your siblings and the clipped Angel, tell them I have no idea where you are or where you're headed, and move on with my hellish endeavors."

"But?" you said impatiently.

" _But,_ " Crowley continued, "you owe me _one_ favor. Quite a small price to pay, really. You must obey my one command in that moment. Nothing more. Do we have a deal?"

You pondered the deal for a moment. Weighing the benefits in your head. Is it really worth owing the King of Hell a favor over just dealing with the consequences of Dean Winchester?

 _Abso-fucking-lutely_.

But you had some questions first.

"Are they looking for me?" you asked, knowing the answer.

"Frantically," Crowley said, "Moose and the Angel are scouring every traffic light camera and police record in the area."

"And Dean?" Crowley smirked at the hesitation in your voice.

"Squirrel is skulking in his room with copious amounts of 'alcohol'". You looked at the floor when he said that, feeling tears bite at your eyes when you knew that Dean didn't care about aiding the search for your location. You blinked away these tears as you came to your decision.

"Deal" you said with a sounding finality.

Crowley straightened and smiled, pulling out a large scroll from within his jacket. He unfurled it and handed you a pen. You read the document to make sure you weren't being tricked into selling your soul. Satisfied with what you read, you signed your name on the line and the contract, along with the pen, puffed out of existence in a cloud of smoke.

"Pleasure doing business," Crowley said triumphantly before disappearing himself.

You stood alone in the room, glancing to see that the cart, along with the demon's body, disappeared with Crowley. 

_What a gentleman,_ you thought, with an eye roll.

The throbbing in your side strengthened now that you had no distraction within the room. You sat on the bed again and winced at the pain, opening up the first aid kit and lifting your shirt slowly.

_Jeez._

Your side had been bleeding throughout the entire conversation with Crowley and the blood had soaked its way through your shirt and down your side. The wound itself was deep but not wide, meaning that sutures should suffice for the moment. You grabbed a bottle of whiskey from your duffel, which you took from the Bunker just for this type of situation, and opened it with your teeth. Bracing for the sting, you poured the clear liquid on your wound to disinfect it, gasping at the sudden shock of burning pain. 

"Shiiiit" you said aloud, clenching your teeth. You set the bottle down and pulled a needle and thread from the first aid kit. Carefully, you stitched yourself up. This proved to be a harder task to accomplish on your own than with the help of your brothers. You wondered what their reaction would be when Crowley told them the news.

As if reading your mind, your phone buzzed. You lowered your bloodstained shirt and picked your phone up from the bedside table. 

_1 New Message_.

You opened the text to see it was from Crowley. It read, "Success. Try not to get yourself killed." and a kiss emoji. You scoffed but felt a sense of relief flood your body.

You changed your shirt and decided to use your time to decide where you were going to fly to by searching for any signs of a hunt within the nation. You pulled out your laptop from the duffel bag and sat with it in front of you while you searched online articles for any mysterious deaths or missing persons cases.

A few hours later, you found what you thought to be a simple salt-and-burn in Orlando, Florida. You decided to fly to the tourist hot spot as your escape route when you realized it was 1 AM. Rubbing your eyes, you decided against taking a nap since you lost valuable time from deciding to stay the night. You had planned on making up this time by having Rodney take you to the airport, but since this could no longer come to fruition, you decided to leave as early as possible. You packed your bag and placed the duffel on your shoulder, doing a once-over to make sure you left nothing behind before walking out the door and back onto the main road, leaving your room key on the bedside table. 

.

The road was completely barren as you left the town, gravel crunching under your feet as you walked next to the paved road as a car passed. Once the vehicle passed you, you strayed back onto the pavement, liking the smooth surface more for such a long journey. Your mind shuffled through possible stories you could stick to while passing through airport security. Your I.D. had Irene Pulitzer as the name listed and you decided to create the persona of an awkward teen girl leaving the state for the first time. This would stop security from scrutinizing you too much. As you tried to sort other details out, you heard the familiar sound of an engine approach from behind and you moved out of the way and onto the gravel. 

The engine got closer to you and you noticed that it wasn't making an attempt to pass by. You turned around and saw that it was pulling over to the side of the road. You put your arm in front of your eyes to try and see the model and driver of the car, but the headlights were blinding you in the dark night. You tensed when you saw the passenger door open, unable to reach your gun from inside the duffel bag.

That's when the headlights turned off. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness and you finally realized why the engine sound was so familiar to you.

_**The Impala.**_

Sam stepped out of the passenger side of the car and stood there, still. You did the same, staring at him with wide eyes. That's when two more doors opened up, Castiel and Dean stepping out. 

_Crowley. That fucking traitor._

You couldn't see any of their faces, but you could tell by their height differences who they were. You stared at them in silence, tension palpable in the air. Neither parties said anything for a moment and you could slowly feel your world crumbling around you. All it took for hell to break loose was for Sam to step forward. Causing you to drop your duffel bag and sprint in the other direction. 

It was a stupid idea. 

There was absolutely no way you were going to make it out of this situation, you knew that, everyone knew that. You just ran out of sheer denial and a ridiculous sense of hope that an angel who wasn't clipped would save your ass out of nowhere. No such luck for you.

You hauled ass down the paved road and heard the incoming stomping footsteps of who you hoped was Sam or Cas, knowing they would be more gentle in this situation.

Today was just not your day. 

Dean caught up to you in a hilariously short amount of time, practically tackling you to the ground. You hit the ground hard and had the breath knocked out of you. You struggled against Dean's hands as he tried to grip onto your side. The fall had jostled your stitches and a few came loose, causing you to huff in pain. You ignored the burning pain in your side as you continued trying to get out of Dean's grip. You managed to actually punch him in the face by some miracle and staggered back onto your feet once he rolled off of you. 

You tried to take a step forward, but the pain in your side made you gasp and stop. You had no time to turn around and surrender before Dean had gotten up to his feet and grabbed you from behind, wrapping his giant arms around your torso and causing a scream to escape from your lips due to the added pressure on your wound. He did not ease his grip as he lifted you off the ground from behind. You kicked the air and struggled against him as he turned around, easily carrying you back to Sam and Cas, who had not moved from their position next to the Impala. 

"NO!" you practically shrieked, not wanting to believe that this was happening to you. 

"Stop fighting me, (Y/n)" Dean said gruffly, showing that he was having trouble handling you. The sight must've been hilarious to outside eyes, a girl kicking and fighting against a man much larger than her, while in a bear hug. Dean's comment only made you fight harder, however, and he set you down on the ground and roughly turned you around, hurting your shoulder in the process. In one swift movement, he bent down and threw you over his shoulder, placing his arm over the back of your knees to stop your kicking. Still salty about being caught, you started pounding on his back. He paid no attention to it and you knew your efforts weren't hurting him. The pain in your side strengthened tenfold and you knew for a fact that you were bleeding, and Dean either didn't car or didn't notice, you hoped it was the latter. 

"Sam, open the back" Dean said to the giant, who had retrieved your duffel and placed it in the trunk during the scuffle. He did so with hesitation, probably wondering if you would start attacking him too on the way into the car. Dean practically dropped you into the back and you let out a grunt from the impact. You scooted forward to the edge of the seat, legs hanging outside of the car. 

Dean was standing in front of you, his furious form making your face flush completely. Sam and Cas stood on opposite sides of him, making an intimidating triangle in which you were the focal point. You waited for Dean to say something, but he wordlessly grabbed your legs and swung them into the car, slamming the door hard and making you flinch. You tried to pry the door open, but he placed his weight against it and gave you a look that rivaled that of Medusa herself. You stopped trying to open the door and lowered your arm, grasping your side instead. 

You slunked against the seat, the weight of the moment catching up to you. You removed your hand from your side and looked down at it, surprised to see the amount of blood on your skin. You lifted your shirt slightly and saw your stitches completely ripped out of place, you felt dizzy from the blood loss. You lowered your shirt and looked out of your window seeing Sam, Dean, and Cas speaking to each other. You couldn't hear what they were saying, your head was spinning, all you could see was an obvious argument.

 _Probably over who gets to kill me,_ you thought bitterly, only being a little bit dramatic.

While alone in the car, you got a really stupid idea. Dean had left the keys in the ignition of the car and it was practically calling your name. However, you knew that if you did this, and got caught, you would actually die. 

_I'm dead either way._

You crawled your way to the front seat, still dizzy from the blood loss, and turned the key in the ignition. You could practically feel both Heaven and Hell screaming at you not to do this, but ignored your common sense in favor of blind desperation. The engine starting got the attention of the boys immediately. They all turned around at once, and Dean's eyes looked like they were about to actually jump out of his head.

You floored it.

You screeched off in the car, looking in the rear view mirror to see Dean making a full on break for the car, Sam and Cas in his wake. For a moment, you though Dean was going to be able to keep up with the Impala, but you pulled away quickly, leaving them in your dust. 

That's when you realized how badly you fucked up.

You were bleeding out and driving away from probably your only chance of survival. You were mortified, but you knew that you had to turn around if you were going to have a chance at living to see another day, albeit how small. As you were thinking this, your eyes swam in your vision and you felt your head nod, as if you were falling asleep. 

_I'm gonna pass out. I'm gonna crash._

In honesty, there was nothing really to crash into on the barren road. But a ditch had manifested on the right, and you were straying towards it. You tried your hardest to stay awake, but the loss of blood and stress of your predicament nudged you over the edge and you fell into blackness, still within view of your brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh? Eh?  
> Not that bad, Eh?  
> Leave suggestions/comments/concerns in comments belowwwww.  
> I'm on a roll with this storyyyy. I'll try and update again within the week.  
> HAPPY HALLOWEEN!


	4. Home Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Not gonna say much, but I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Thanks to Alicia for the suggestion. Hope you enjoy love x  
> Leave suggestions in the comments if you wish.  
> Byeeee
> 
> If you like this story and want to help a sister out with her expenses, please consider visiting **_Ko-fi.com/willowplum_** and donating! If you cannot donate at this time no worries! I would like to thank you for even enjoying my works. SO much love to you all!

_Shot through the heart, and you're to blame! YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME._

The roaring music caused you to wince, a migraine pulsing at your temples as you woke. You noticed you were laying down on your back, head elevated above the leather seats of the Impala, speeding down the road. You opened your eyes reluctantly, dreading the moments that were about to come. That's when you realized why your head was elevated. Above you, you could see the underside of the chin of your favorite angel, your head situated on his lap.

Cas felt your eyes on him and looked down at you, his eyes holding a sense of pity and worry. You had no ill feelings towards the angel so you did not hesitate in giving him a small smile despite the pain reverberating in your head. He didn't return the gesture and glanced up towards your brothers in the front seat. Sam was asleep, leaning against the window of the passenger side while Dean focused on the road, not tapping along to the music like he usually would. 

You made an attempt to sit up, but Cas pressed a hand on your shoulder, holding you down. You looked up at him quizzically and he shook his head slightly, mouthing the words 'not now' before pressing two fingers to your forehead. You descended back into blackness.

.

You were propped against the window in the backseat when you next opened your eyes, hearing voices instead of loud rock. It was still night outside but you could see Sam was awake now, facing Dean. You looked towards your left to see Cas, staring at you with serious eyes. You gave him a look of confusion in regards to so blatantly knocking you out earlier. He squinted in response, not understanding as to why you were confused. You sighed and looked away, getting the attention of Sam.

"(Y/n)?" he said, a little hesitantly.

"Sam" you said back, nervous and slightly afraid of how your brothers were about to react to your stunt. Your running away resulted in the death of an innocent man and an idiotic decision to make a deal with the King of Hell, an action that you all agreed to be off the table, no matter the circumstance. 

"Um", Sam continued, after seeing Dean grip the steering wheel a little tighter at the sound of your voice, "How are you?"

His question made you realize that you weren't feeling any pain from your stab wound or from the car crash which most definitely happened after you passed out. You pressed against your side gently, bracing for the pain, but felt none. You lifted your shirt slightly and saw a small silver scar where the wound had been. 

"When you battered the Impala," you winced at Cas' blunt words, "I took it upon myself to heal your wounds". 

"Thanks" you said quietly, not making eye contact with anyone in the car, fiddling with your shirt absentmindedly. 

"Of course" Cas responded.

The silence that followed was exceptionally awkward and tense. Dean was staring dead ahead at the road, jaw set and knuckles white from his grip on the wheel. Sam was warily eyeing you from the rear view mirror, his eyes burning into your form. Cas sat awkwardly, not knowing whether to say something or silently look out the window. You decided to end the torture and say something.

"Guys," you said cautiously, still not making eye contact with anyone, "I know this looks bad but-".

"Shut up, (Y/n)" Dean said out of nowhere, his tone immediately silencing you, "not a word until we get back to the Bunker".

"Dean-" you tried to continue.

"I said," he dropped his voice to almost a deathly growl, "shut the fuck up".

Your stomach turned and you felt tears pricking at the edge of your eyes. You could deal with demons, torture, ghosts, vampires, and a whole encyclopedia's worth of other monsters, but only two things truly scared you more than anything else, _losing_ your family or your family being _furious_ with you. The Winchesters had a knack to be fucking terrifying when they were furious, and Dean seemed to feel that way right now towards you.

You didn't realize you were crying until you felt Cas' hand awkwardly touch yours, trying to offer some sort of comfort. Quickly, you wiped away your tears and gave Cas a fake smile before staring at the passing terrain in an attempt to gather your thoughts, preparing for the worst.

When the car finally arrived at the Bunker and pulled into the oversized garage, you could feel every molecule in your body shaking from the tension. Dean barely waited to put the car in park before exiting and walking straight into the Bunker. Everyone else had yet to open their door. 

"I'm sorry", you blurted out, feeling the weight of your decision pressing down on you now, "I didn't mean to hurt you guys, I swear. I just-"

"(Y/n)," Sam said, sensing your panic and turning around to face you, "Stop. I'm- _We_ aren't upset with you," he gestured to Cas, who nodded, "We get it. Dean is being a coward right now, okay? He doesn't know how to deal with what he said or how you reacted. You had every right to run away. Hell! I would've if I was in your situation!"

You were staring at your hands, refusing to look at your brother, refusing to let him know that your actions killed an innocent man and made you make a deal that you would probably regret. He noticed this and got out of the Impala.

"Cas?" Sam said, "Do you mind checking on Dean?"

"Yes, of course", he said before giving you a final glance and exiting the car, walking into the Bunker. 

You didn't move as Sam opened your door, squatting down in the opening so that he was eye level with you.

"(Y/n)" he said gently, trying to get your attention, "(Y/n), look at me".

You continued staring at your hands, jaw set.

"Hey," he laid his large hand over your knee, trying to offer some type of comfort, "you know you can talk to me, right?"

_Don't hate me. Please not you too. I can't take it._

"I messed up, Sam" you said quietly, looking at his hand on your knee guiltily, "I really messed up".

You lost it. You started sobbing, remembering Rodney's kindness and Crowley's smugness in your time of need. Sam was surprised by this spout of emotion and forced your body to turn towards him, pulling you out of the car and hugging you tightly. You cried into his flannel while he rubbed your back comfortingly. You didn't cry often, making this moment that much more nerve wracking for your brother. 

You both stood there for a moment, the sound of crying being the only noise within the garage. After he felt you settle, Sam let go of the hug and looked at your tear-stained face solemnly. 

"Whatever it is you did, we can get through it. We always do," he said reassuringly, "But you need to tell us, alright? You have to tell the three of us".

You were shaking your head, fear running through your body, "I can't. He'll kill me, Sam. I can't," you were about to start sobbing again before Sam shushed you, hugging you tightly again.

"Calm down, (Y/n)" he said, "No one's gonna hurt you. Not while I'm around". 

"Please just know that I'm sorry, okay?" you said into his shirt, "I'm so sorry".

"I know you are, (Y/n)" he said, "I forgive you".

You pulled away from him and he wiped the tears away from your eyes. 

"You ready?" Sam said after a moment.

"No. But I don't really have a choice, do I?" you said, a sad smile spread on your face. With his arm across your back, Sam guided you to the garage door which led to the Bunker and opened it for you. You hesitantly walked through the door and into the war room, the map table with LEDs in the corner of your vision. What you saw made your blood boil with a whole new burst of fury. Cas was sitting in a chair by the long map table, next to him was a demon trap with the King of Hell himself being the upset occupant.

"There she is! Finally!" Crowley said, turning towards Cas, "Now let me out you bumbling bag of sh-".

"Quiet", you heard the voice of the man you were fearing say from behind you. You refused to turn around and look Dean in the eye. Instead, you stared at Crowley, blaming him for getting caught and for everything that was about to happen.

"We had a deal" you said to Crowley in anger, a mistake on your part. Sam had made his way across the room gradually, but now both he and Cas stared at you, shocked at your words. 

Realizing your mistake, you stopped talking, freezing in pure terror as you sensed Dean walk up behind you. 

"You made a _deal_?" Dean said from directly behind you, "With _Crowley_?".

"N-no?" you said more as a question than a statement.

"You're lying to me, (Y/n)" Dean said slowly before walking in front of you and looking into your eyes with a fury that would make a grown man shit himself.

"This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?" he said with menacing sarcasm.

"Dean I-" you tried to start, but he held a hand up to stop you.

"Unless the next word out of your mouth starts with _s_ and ends in _y_ , I don't want to hear it," he said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest.

**Dad should've never brought you back.**

The memory of Dean's harsh words flushed the fear out of you and replaced it with a burning sense of resentment towards your brother. 

"Me?" you said indignantly, not knowing where the newfound confidence was coming from, "I'm the one who needs to apologize? No, Dean. You're the one who needs to accept that you're a fucking idiot! Do you not even remember what you said to me?". Tears were at your eyes again, but not of fear or sadness, just pure frustration.

"Watch your tone, (Y/n)" Dean growled. If you weren't so high on anger, you would've frozen at his voice. 

"Why should I?" you continued, hysterical now, "I have nothing to lose, right? You want me dead anyways! Might as well give you a reason to FINISH THE JOB!". 

You heard it before you felt it, a sharp slap that actually sent you to the ground from the blunt force. You held your face from where Dean slapped you, the sting covering half of your face and left tears spilling from your eyes. You looked up to see Sam and Cas holding Dean back, who was fighting to approach you. 

"Dean!" Sam grunted, "Dean, STOP". 

You sat on the ground in pure shock, not knowing what to do with yourself. You watched as Sam pinned Dean against the wall, Dean had stopped struggling.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" Sam screamed in his face, "THAT'S OUR LITTLE SISTER, YOU PRICK!".

Cas made his way over to you and helped you up. He scrutinized your face and lifted his hand to heal you, but you grabbed his wrist before he could. 

"No" you said, tears flowing from your eyes, "I deserve it". You pushed his hand away and stepped past him, walking to where Crowley was trapped. It felt as if you were floating, disbelief filling you. You scuffed the edge of the demon trap, setting him free. He looked at your brothers before glancing at your half-red face.

"Good luck, darling" he said, before disappearing.

You stared at the space where Crowley had just been, unable to fathom what just happened. You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to see Cas looking at you sadly. Without hesitation, you threw yourself into his chest. He wrapped his arms around your form and you hugged him back, closing your eyes in a sad attempt to block out your surroundings, Sam's booming voice scolding Dean. After a moment, you backed out of the hug and saw the sympathy in Cas' eyes. You looked towards your brothers to see Sam still pinning Dean to the wall. You made your way over, not making eye contact with Dean, who was staring directly at your face with clear regret.

"Sam," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "That's enough". He stopped yelling at the sound of your voice. He didn't look at you but pushed off of Dean roughly, daring him with his eyes to move. Dean stood against the wall, ashamed of himself. Sam turned to you and studied your face, which had slightly puffed up from the impact. He raised his hand to touch your face and you flinched miserably. Sam noticed this and lowered his hand slowly. 

"Cas?" he said, looking towards the angel who had moved up behind you, "Can you heal her?".

"No" you interrupted before Cas could do anything, "I deserve it".

Your words caused Dean to refocus, looking at you with the deepest sense of regret you had ever seen emanate from a man. Sam looked furious and turned towards Dean quickly, raising a fist to punch him. Dean saw it coming but did nothing to stop it. However, before Sam could swing, you grabbed his arm.

"Sam, no!" you said quickly, "Violence is obviously not the answer right now". 

Sam looked at you and his eyes softened. He lowered his arm and glared at Dean before striding away to the kitchen, presumably to get you an ice pack.

"Cas" you said to the angel, "Can you give us a minute?"

"Are you sure that is the best course of action?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah" you said, a little uncertain, "I'll scream if he tries to kill me". It was a joke, but it fell flat. Cas squinted at you and tilted his head.

"N-no" you tried to take it back, "I was kidding".

"That's not funny," Cas said seriously.

"I know," you continued, "Nevermind. Just give us a second please?".

"As you wish" he said, following Sam's wake into the kitchen, giving a hard look at Dean, who avoided his eyes. 

It took you a moment to gather up the courage to speak, and when you did, your voice was shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry," you said, and he looked at you in surprise, "For leaving. For being such a burden. I'm sorry". Tears were coming again and you cursed yourself for being so weak.

"I get that you're pissed at me" you continued, "I get why. But don't you _ever_ touch me again".

You looked at the ground, tone not really matching the anger you were trying to convey. You turned and began walking away towards the kitchen when you felt a large hand grip your arm tightly, stopping you. You saw another hand approach your hurt cheek, making you flinch. Dean hesitated, moving his hand away before crashing into you in a tight hug. You didn't hug him back for a moment, not believing that he was actually showing affection instead of the disdain you had gotten used to over the past couple of days.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo" Dean's voice made your heart break, "I'm a dick".

"Yeah" you agreed, pressed into his chest, "You kinda are".

"I deserve that" he said, still embracing you, "You don't. You don't deserve this, (Y/n). I'm so sorry for this".

"You didn't do anything Dad hasn't done before".

Your words made Dean tense.

"W-wait" you faltered, "You're nothing like Dad. I didn't mean...".

_I'm so fucking dumb._

"Nah", he said quietly, "Nah you're right". He backed out of the hug and held you at arms length.

"I'm just like him, aren't I?" he wasn't really asking you, his broken face made you feel a pang in your chest, "I hurt you. For what? For my mistake?".

His eyes were red with the onset of tears. You cut his self-pitying party off, not wanting him to fall into the pit where he blamed himself for everything.

"Dean" you said gently, choosing your words carefully, "You will _never_ be as bad as Dad. There is _nothing_ you can do to ever be like him. You understand?".

When he didn't respond, you took it as a sign to continue.

"I made a deal with Crowley," you said looking down at your shoes,"because I was afraid. I was afraid you actually wanted me dead. That you really wished Dad left me dead. After what happened after the Robinson case, I just wanted some time to figure out how to fix this. How to be less of a burden on you guys. In the process, I got a guy killed and almost got crushed by a demon. It just proves I'm useless without you guys, but you can manage without me". Your throat ached from trying to hold back tears.

"(Y/n)..." Dean said slowly, "Oh God, do you really think that? That we don't need you?".

You didn't answer. He gripped your shoulders a little tighter. 

"Kid, Sam and Cas were having an aneurysm the entire time you were gone" he said, "I was drowning in bourbon in my room, blaming myself and thinking about how badly I fucked up. Then Crowley shows up and says he has no idea where you are, and I just lost it". He looked up, blinking away his tears easily.

"I trapped Crowley on blind faith. Faith that he was lying to us and faith that he knew where you were. I got lucky" he shook his head slightly, "We threatened him and he gave up, saying that keeping your secret wasn't 'worth the reward'. We sped out of here so damn quick, and when I saw you on the street, alone with that damn bag...I don't know. It just reminded me of when Dad left me, when Sam left me, and now you? I overreacted, I know that. The same happened when you tried to take Baby. I bottled it all up and it just broke out when you started yelling at me. I am the one who should be sorry".

He looked heartbroken, and it crushed you. You hugged him again, to his surprise.

"It's okay Dean" you said, "I forgive you". 

You backed up and punched him in the shoulder. 

"But next time," you gestured to your face, which was puffy and red, making him wince, "I'll beat your ass". 

"(Y/n)..." he started.

"It's a joke, Dean" you said with a genuine smile, "I guess it's too soon, huh?"

"Yeah, just a bit," he cleared his throat, "Okay. No more Dr. Phil moments. Go have Cas fix you up".

You nodded and began walking to the kitchen. You stopped when you realized Dean wasn't behind you. You turned and looked at him in confusion.

"You coming?" you gestured to the kitchen.

"Uh..." he hesitated, "Nah. I think I should give Sam and Cas some time to chill. If Sam had slapped you, I would've decapitated him".

"Dean-".

"No it's fine, (N/n)", he said, taking a step back and turning towards the hallway which led to his room, "I'll talk to him eventually, go fix yourself up".

"Alright..." you said reluctantly, watching as Dean turned and strode to his room. 

You let Cas heal your stinging face and told both him and Sam about your entire adventure, including the demon who tried to kill you and the blood on your hands. They took it better than you expected, not scolding you in any manner. Instead, they comforted you and tried to convince you that Rodney's death was not your fault. You said that they were right, but you would never be able to remove the sight of Rodney's decapitated head from your memory. You told them that you made up with Dean and to go easy on him, but Sam said that he would do no such thing, with Cas briskly nodding in agreement.

"Well" you said, "He's probably asleep anyways".

Little did you know, Dean wouldn't sleep that night. 

He would finish a new bottle of bourbon by himself.


End file.
